Yesterday I went to the DMV to get my Washington state license and I swear as I handed over my California license and watched as the callous clerk punched a hole in it, making it invalid, I felt that hole punch through my heart too. There's no turning back now. I'm an official resident of a new state. Don't get me wrong, I'm not suffering through this move, it's more uncomfortable than anything. I am pushed so far out of comfort zone right now, I'm almost numb. I know no one. I have to use my phone to get everywhere. My house is in complete chaos as I try to unpack. But there are wonderful moments too, moments I wouldn't have if I hadn't pulled on my big girl panties and followed my husband up here.
My husband was out of town earlier this week, which meant I was in charge of getting my daughter to the bus in the mornings. We would head out our back door at exactly 6:57am, cross the damp grass and step down to the street via the beautiful, mossy, stone steps that are on our property. I didn't really notice those when we were *quickly* buying the property and I feel like they are gift. I have to pinch myself to think that those belong to me. They aren't in a park somewhere, they are mine.
We are also seeing how that the lifestyle we hoped for is coming true. My husband's shorter commute is allowing us to adventure on weeknights.One night we packed a picnic dinner and headed down to the lake. We were about halfway through, bellies full of fried chicken and ambrosia, marveling at the scenery, when wasps came and decided to claim our chicken as their own. No one got stung luckily and, although disappointed that we couldn't fully enjoy our meal, it will be a memory etched forever in our family history.
And last week I took a morning off from unpacking and trying to settle us in. I wandered around the quaint Camas downtown, breathing in the unusual and somewhat unpleasant smell of the paper mill. I bought some cute sweaters (cause I live somewhere you actually NEED sweaters) and had panini and chai tea latte at a small cafe where it was warm inside and I eavesdropped on the regulars as they came in, placed their orders, and told the girl behind the counter stories about how they stopped their car to help a family of ducks get across a busy street safely. Then I stopped by a yoga studio and, when I inquired about classes was looked over by the yoga clad-hippie chick and asked if I ever did yoga before. When I said yes, she again gave me the once over, eyes resting on my huge, so not a yoga butt, and seemed weary of my answer, causing me to flare up a bit in anger and, admittedly, a little shame, and wanting to snap at her that fat girls do yoga too.
And that, my friends has been a glimpse of my life since September 6. It's filled with good and bad, happy and sad, but that's really life isn't it? You just have to hope that good column always comes out just a bit ahead of the bad and so far, I'm in the black.